but close enough.
“Daisy?” West says.
“Did you always know you wanted to be a Marine, or was that what you just settled on when you didn’t know what else to be after high school?”
He settles an arm along the back of the sofa, close enough that I can tell myself he’s wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
I mean, if that’s what I wanted to believe.
“I…don’t know.” He’s staring at the fireplace.
I’m staring at him.
“I’m the oldest of six. Always had a lot of responsibility. Dad’s a retired carpenter. Mom worked long, weird hours, and her stand-up career didn’t take off until I was in high school, so I always knew it would be the military or student loans for college. Taking care of me. Taking care of my sisters and Ty—it’s what I always did. When the Marine recruiter came and talked…I guess it just clicked. Felt right. Never gave it much thought after that.”
“Is that why you date single mothers? Because they need to be taken care of?”
“No.”
He’s lying. Or maybe he thinks he’s telling the truth. He’d probably tell me single mothers are strong and more capable than he’ll ever be, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to take care of them, whether he realizes it or not.
I shift on the seat, pulling my knees up until they’re resting on his thighs. “Who takes care of you?”
The corner of his lips hitches up. “I’m a simple guy. Don’t need much taking care of.”
“Everyone needs taking care of sometime. No man is a bubble.”
“You mean an island?”
“No. Islands are awesome. Sand. Palm trees. The beach. A lifetime supply of chocolate, peanut butter, and books in the secret hideaway you find when you start exploring…”
He barks out a laugh and shakes his head. “And a bubble is just a lone pocket of air trapped inside a cage of soap water?”
“Exactly. You’re one smart cookie, Westley Jaeger.”
He tilts his head to study me, and my breath whooshes out of me. Hazel. He has magic, color-changing hazel eyes that have seen more of the world than I have.
Maybe he hasn’t been as many places.
But he’s seen more. Bad stuff that would reduce me to a crumpled mass of helplessness. Can’t be a Marine in this day and age and not have experienced bad things.
And he doesn’t have anyone taking care of him. He does it himself, because he doesn’t think he needs anyone.
His family must want to throttle him on a regular basis.
But this is their lucky day.
Because I, Daisy Imogen Carter-Kincaid, am going to take care of this man.
“You’re going to take Remy from me one day, aren’t you?” he says quietly.
A lump rolls up from the bottom of my neck to the top of my throat like it’s chasing Indiana Jones, and I have to swallow hard to get it back down.
Westley Jaeger’s body and mind might be made of steel, but his heart is cotton candy.
Cotton candy that he’s freely given to a baby that, by all rights, never should’ve been his, but is now firmly settled in his heart.
I shake my head and draw an X over my own heart. “No. Never.”
His eyes narrow slightly, his lips part, and I hear the question that he doesn’t voice.
Even when whatever this is between us fizzles out?
It’s a legit question.
I don’t date.
But then, I’ve never had a Westley in my life.
I honestly can’t imagine my life without him now though.
“Long term, I’m not in your grandmother’s plans,” he reminds me.
He’s not wrong, and we both know it. She likes him short-term because he gives me credibility. Like he did today, talking about his time in the service, his experience with his sisters, his brother, his nieces and nephews, talking about how well I’m doing with the baby despite not having a lot of practice.
What mother does before her first kid? he’d asked.
My grandmother was correct to fight to keep him here right now. But she’s wrong if she thinks there’s a day coming when West shouldn’t be in Remy’s life.
“I will fight her tooth and nail,” I whisper. “And she might be immortal, but I have a way bigger army.”
He doesn’t crack a grin. Like he knows I’m serious.
My grandmother is in peak shape for an eighty-two-year-old woman. Her mind’s sharp. Her body’s strong. She gives zero fucks and feeds off of fear, which is relatively abundant when she’s around. It’s an endless source of energy.
She could honestly live past one hundred.
But my friends outnumber hers a thousand to one.
A